When my sister turned 18, my parents did the most unthinkable thing. They let her have a party at our house, alone. My parents naively thought that she and her girlfriends would sit around braiding each others hair, talking about boys, eating ice cream, and having pillow fights. Little did they know the real party would be so wild that had Charlie Sheen been there he would have said, "Wow, this s*&# is getting crazy." The next day me and my dad returned from our stay at some low budget motel to find the house a little bit trashed. The mailbox was messed up, front door broken, my allowance stolen from my bedroom, suspicious residue on my mom's make up mirror, and urine in the fake plants.
This obviously showed my parents the error in their thinking; therefore, when I was 18 there was no such party. The closest thing I got was when I was 16. They left me at home with my 22 year old sister while they went on a weekend getaway. I have no recollection of my sister's whereabouts. I do remember that I invited some friends over. It wasn't real scandalous. The most memorable moment was when a guy came out of my parents' bathroom to inform me that he had overflowed the toilet. You know it is a good party when that happens. I will not say this guy's name. Not because I am nice, but because I cannot remember it. If I did remember it, I would expose him as being a party pooper. The cops weren't called at my party, but a plumber almost was.
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